


A Sphere Within a Sphere

by HiLarpItsCat



Series: Evie's Backstory [4]
Category: Scion (Tabletop RPG)
Genre: 1980s, Backstory, Dublin - Freeform, F/M, James Joyce - Freeform, TBD IC Canon, Trinity College Dublin, Ulysses - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 07:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6364474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiLarpItsCat/pseuds/HiLarpItsCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dublin, 1986. After her disastrous duel with Bran following the prison outbreak in Chicago, Evie Vane, Scion of Frigg, travels to Dublin to stay with her (sort of) boyfriend, Ellis O’Sullivan, Scion of Odin. It had been a peaceful respite so far, but (almost) everything has to change eventually.</p><p>Contains naked ladies, James Joyce, and a few cranky buildings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ēōs

Evie woke while it was still dark. Finding herself alone in the bed, she panicked. That terrible silence started to overwhelm her, accompanied by the smell of dirt and ash and... coffee?

She smells coffee. She relaxed, pulled on a robe, and wandered out of the bedroom. Ellis' flat is a straightforward affair: one small bedroom and one even smaller bathroom, off of a room that serves as a kitchen, dining room, and living room. Dominating the middle of the room is a large table, solid enough to survive a blow from a sledgehammer... or the combined efforts of two horny Scions. This morning, Ellis was poring over the large map of the city spread out before him on the table.

He looked up at Evie as she came in. "Did I wake you?" he asked, slightly worried.

"In a way. The coffee woke me," she said, filling a chipped mug with it. She glanced back at Ellis. "Is this all for me, or do you want a mug as well?"

"Oh, yes, sorry, I forgot," he said, turning back to the map. Evie poured him a cup and brought it back to the table. She leaned over his shoulder; the map was covered in marks, lines, curves, and even equations in some places (mostly in bodies of water where they would be legible). Ellis had been a surveyor, once upon a time, but this seemed more arcane. 

"What's all this?" she asked. "You don't often see this much math in the River Liffey."

She saw a smile quirk up on one side of his face. "No, not often," he agreed. He sighed and leaned backwards to rest his head against her stomach. Even after these weeks she had spent here, Evie still marveled at the fact that she was here, actually with him, actually touching him. Over their nearly two decades of acquaintance (could it really be that long?), this was the longest they had ever spent together, and the novelty had yet to wear off. She sipped her coffee with one hand and ruffled his salt-and-pepper hair with the other, messing up his hair just because she could, just for the sheer joy of it.

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, briefly kissing it. "There are more incursions lately," he said. "Something's coming up and I can't sort out the pattern yet."

"Are you trying to anticipate future incursions, or the thing they're leading up to?"

"Both."

"Pick one," she said. 

"How are you so awake?" he asked.

"Because I'm actually drinking the coffee," she said, indicating his untouched cup.

"I'd rather know what they're leading up to," he said, retrieving it. "I think there's a focal point. The incursions are just anchors, but I can't find the center because I don't know all of the events."

"It's not a focal point in space?" she asked, sitting down in a nearby chair.

"Unfortunately, no," he said. "It has some narrative elements, but that’s about all I can determine.”

“Well,” said Evie, “and I’m just thinking out loud here-- if it’s narrative, then it’s unlikely we’ll find it from here.”

“The map is not the territory,” Ellis agreed, nodding. Then, he suddenly sprang into action, downing the last of his coffee in a single sip, and jumping to his feet. 

“What are we doing?” Evie asked, as he extended a hand towards her. 

“Getting dressed,” he said. “We’re going for a walk, so dress warmly.”

“Where?” she asked, taking his hand and rising to her feet. 

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” he replied, delightedly. Still holding her hand, he led her towards the bedroom. “It’s a narrative problem, so let’s try a narrative solution.” He turned and gave Evie a kiss. “We’re going to do the best bit of narrative magic it’s possible to do in this city.”


	2. Demodocus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some bits of this chapter reference random scraps of James Joyce's "Ulysses." If you're like Evie, though, and haven't read it, that's okay. As Ellis says, most people who have read it haven't read it either.

“But I’ve never read _Ulysses_ ,” Evie said as they wandered north towards the quays. 

“You don’t need to,” Ellis said. “Most people who’ve read it haven’t read it either. The book itself is a whole form of magic unto itself, but this--” he waved an arm, taking in the streets and the shops and the people in them, “-- is all you need for a good Bloomsday ritual. And yes,” he admitted before Evie could ask, “it’s not actually Bloomsday, that’s not till June, but still. Might even work better this way.”

“Less interference,” Evie said. “What’s our starting point?”

“Usher’s Quay,” Ellis said, as they passed Wormwood Gate. “There was an incident there a few weeks ago, and the earliest one I was able to link to the pattern.”

“And you’re sure the hats are necessary?” Evie asked, holding up her straw boater.

“Oh, most definitely,” he said with a grin. He hefted the canvas bag he was carrying. “Very important ritual items. Also, you will look quite cute, especially with the glasses.”

“Wait, the what?”

He grinned even wider. “Just you wait.”

They crossed the road and made their way to the wall of the quay’s southern bank. As they neared the ladder leading down to the banks of the Liffey, Ellis reassured Evie: “Don’t worry, we don’t need to go down there. We need the streets for this to work, not the river.” He began setting up the parts of the ritual, including a tiny camp stove, explaining each part as they went along. Evie put the elements in order and lit the stove. Ellis unwrapped a bloody bit of meat and put it on the stove.

“Ready?” asked Ellis.

“Honestly, no,” said Evie.

“Excellent,” he said, winking. “Let’s begin.” He held up his straw boater, and Evie did the same. “ _Introibo ad altare Dei_ ,” he said, as they put the hats on their heads.

“ _Introibo ad altare Dei_ ,” Evie echoed. She picked up two pairs of round eyeglasses and handed one pair to Ellis. Consulting his notes, Ellis intoned:

_Misty glasses_  
_Slanted glasses_  
_Bluey specs_  
_Hurling mute curses at the sky_  
_Tantalus glasses_  
_Fieldglasses_  
_Goerz lenses_  
_Testing the glasses on the roof of the bank_  
_Black glasses_  
_Clerks in glasses_  
_Gentlemen in glasses_  
_Girls in glasses_  
_Simon in glasses_  
_Dropping his glasses on his coatfront_  
_Tortoiseshell quizzing-glasses_  
_Operaglasses_  
_Broken glasses_  
_Onelensed binocular fieldglasses_  
_Watch! Watch! See!_

They put their glasses on. The lenses were a bit smudged.

Taking her cue, Evie read aloud, “ _There’s a smell of burn. Did you leave anything on the fire?_ ”

“ _The kidney!_ ” Ellis responded. Blowing out the flame of the camp stove, he retrieved the now burnt piece of meat. “ _Done to a turn_ ,” he recited, breaking it in half and handing a piece to Evie. They ate their pieces of kidney, which scorched their tongues. Evie fought back a grimace.

She took a swig of the thermos she held and passed it to Ellis. “ _A mouthful of tea_ ,” she said. He took a sip and set it aside.

They took hands and chanted together:  
_Far. Far. Far. Far.  
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

And then, turning in a circle, they gave the final chant:  
_Yes I said yes I will Yes._

“There,” Ellis said, drawing Evie in for a kiss. “We are officially on an Odyssey. Now we follow the plotlines of our feet.”

Evie spun around and pointed east. “That way,” she said. 

“You felt it?” he asked.

“I felt it. I’m sure.” She helped Ellis clean up the ritual supplies and they headed off along the quay.


	3. Tiresias

A left after Merchants Quay and across the O'Donovan Rossa Bridge, then north past Chancery Park. They encountered a dead end on St. Michan’s Street, which led to jumping a fence and walking through a car park to Mary’s Lane. 

After wandering up Green Street, Ellis picked up the trail again at Henrietta Place, then through a winding route through King’s Inns Park and up Constitution Hill. When they started approaching the Royal Canal, Ellis called for a break. “We’re starting to veer too close to Eccles Street,” he said in frustration. “It’ll put us on the Ulysses narrative, which isn’t the trail we’re looking for.”

“Let’s turn back and get our bearings,” Evie suggested. “And maybe some food.”

“I know just the place,” Ellis said.

***

“It’s 10 in the morning,” said Evie. “How is this pub even open?”

“That’s Slattery’s in a nutshell,” said Ellis, shrugging. “They open at 7 in the morning.”

“I now see your point about blood pudding,” said Evie, digging into her breakfast. “It’s better than burnt kidney, at least.”

“You’ll learn to like it eventually,” Ellis remarked, before taking a bite of rasher. 

There was an awkward silence. They hadn’t talked about how long Evie would be staying-- would it be long enough to get accustomed to anything at all? 

She had turned up on his doorstep after the duel with Bran with only a phone call’s warning and Ellis had welcomed her into his home and life. She was grateful--immensely so-- but this was a new thing for both of them and neither of them knew how to talk about it. 

There weren’t as many active Scions in Dublin as there were in Chicago, since travel from the rest of Europe was faster, and Evie had come to realize that Ellis didn’t really have that many people he could be truly honest with about his life. Most of his duties as the Aesir’s representative in Dublin were solitary; today may have been the first time in a long time where Ellis could actually work with someone on a task instead of by himself. 

It had been hard for both of them at first. In Chicago, Evie’s daily routine involved lots of people and action and movement; she always had to be doing something with her hands. But Ellis spent his time working alone, sometimes in his apartment and sometimes in rambles around the city. After a few days, they began to get on each other's’ nerves a little, so Evie went rambling as well. She lingered in pubs in Temple Bar, chatted with buskers on Grafton Street, tried and failed to learn the bodhrán. 

Over the weeks, they had both grown and learned to accommodate the other’s habits and preferences. Evie brought Ellis out of his shell a little; she met his friends and even hosted a dinner or two at his flat. He shared more of what he was thinking and feeling. He included her in his work. Evie, for her part, learned to slow down a little. Though nothing could take the place of her lost cafe, being with Ellis gave her a feeling of constancy and a little taste of home. She no longer felt as adrift as she once had.

They were settling into a comfortable routine. They were becoming a partnership. It was nice. 

But it couldn’t last forever. Eventually Evie would have to go home to Chicago. Her task was to keep the newly fledged Conclave together so they could keep the prison contained. She was literally brought back from the dead for this purpose. This wasn’t a job she could quit.

The thought still niggled at the back of her mind: _but what if you could stay?_

She wasn’t even entirely sure if that was something Ellis wanted. They had always promised each other that there would always be a place for the other in their home, but this was the first time it had really been put to the test. Yes, it was working for the moment, but how would it fare long-term?

“We should figure out where this is going,” said Ellis.

“Ask me to stay,” Evie blurted out.

“What?” Ellis tilted his head in confusion. 

“Is this--oh. You meant the trail. Yes, we need to sort that out.” Evie could feel herself flushing pink for a moment, and saw Ellis trying to decide whether to pursue that line of conversation further. She decided to spare him the choice: “Are we close to any of the incursion points you tracked?”

“No, more’s the pity.” He still looked concerned. 

“Hmm,” she mused. “Maybe we need another push. Some other kind of divination. Have you got any runic tiles on you?”

Ellis shook his head. “No, I just packed for the Bloomsday ritual.”

Evie looked around the bar, then went up to the bartender. “Hi there,” she said. “Have you got a deck of cards?”

The bartender looked a bit hesitant. “Well, there’s a pack around here somewhere but it’s a little… alternative, if you take my meaning.”

“Whatever you’ve got,” Evie said. Still looking uncomfortable, the bartender fetched the deck, which turned out to be playing cards with naked women pictured on them. “Perfect, thanks,” she said cheerfully and returned to the table. 

“Not tarot, but they’ll do,” she said, flashing the rather ravishing Queen of Hearts at Ellis. He gave a snort of laughter. “What do you think? Celtic Cross or Star Guide spread?” she asked, shuffling the deck.

Ellis rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Hmm… the Cross gives more details but the Star is faster… let’s do the Cross.”

Evie finished shuffling and passed him the deck. He cut it and handed it back. Evie began to deal out the cards. “Hey,” she said as she laid out the first card, “you changed them.” The naked ladies had been replaced with the familiar images of the Rider-Waite.

He smirked. “Figured it would help with interpretation.”

Sticking her tongue out at him, Evie tapped the first card with a finger and then tapped the deck; the Rider-Waite layout remained the same, but the people on the cards were replaced with the naked women in the same poses. “A compromise,” she replied cheekily, then gave a sigh when she saw what card it was: the Five of Pentacles. As usual. Her tarot card, drawn at her initiation into the Conclave: two miserable (and in this case, naked) figures hurrying past a church window. 

“Forget that one,” she said. “I’m always getting that. All right, next card: opposing force.” She laid the card down: Two of Swords. “Indecision,” she said, looking at the blindfolded woman holding a pair of crossed swords.

“Well, we knew that,” said Ellis. “Next card is the origin of the question, yes?” 

Evie drew the next card: “Eight of Wands. Travel and movement. So far, so good, and now for the recent past… Eight of Swords.”

“Yikes,” said Ellis, wincing at the card’s image of a bound and gagged woman surrounded by swords.

“And the present and near future…” she laid down the next card. “Oh.” It was the Eight of Cups, with its lonely figure turning away, trudging through a marsh towards a desolate horizon. The next card was similarly dismal: the Six of Swords, showing a boat crossing the water and heading for distant shores.

Her heart continued to sink as she dealt the seventh card, the one for emotions: the Nine of Swords, its despairing figure sobbing alone in bed. The eighth card, signifying relationships, was the efficient and conservative Knight of Pentacles. Reflexively, she looked up at Ellis, and then quickly back down to the cards. 

Nervously, she laid down the ninth card, the card for hopes, dreading what it would show. And there it was, the Four of Wands, with its newlyweds celebrating under a canopy.

That thought again: _but what if you could stay?_

She quickly dealt the final card: the Ten of Pentacles.

“Huh,” she said, perplexed. “That’s an odd one.”

“Material fulfillment?” Ellis said, equally confused. A pair of naked ladies relaxed under an archway as coins rained down upon them.

“I mean, for a typical reading, that would be a pleasant outcome, but it’s strange for the question we’re asking.”

Ellis spoke quietly, still looking down at the cards. “And what question were we asking?”

Evie flushed pink again. Then something caught her eye. “Hang on… look at these two.” She pointed at the fifth and sixth cards. “They’re both traveling across water.”

After a moment, Ellis saw it too. “Our narrative sense was strongest when we first started, right after the ritual--”

“--when we were still on the south side of the river,” Evie finished. She gathered up the cards and returned them to the deck.

“Shall we?” Ellis asked, rising to his feet and reaching for his wallet.

“Let’s,” said Evie.


	4. Minos

Neither of them spoke until they arrived at Grafton Street. It wasn’t their stated destination, but such was the peculiarity of Dublin’s south side: if you wandered long enough, all roads eventually led to Grafton Street. 

They stopped to rest on a bench near Wicklow Street, when Ellis said, softly. “We haven’t really talked about it, have we?”

“No,” Evie said. 

“ _Do_ you want to stay?”

“I don’t know,” she said. 

“But you wanted me to ask.”

“I did want you to ask. I wanted to hear it. I wanted to feel like it was a decision we were both making.”

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to stay.”

“But if I could…” she trailed off. “It would be different.”

“The Four of Wands.”

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know if that’s something that either of us want.”

“Or something either of us are ready for,” he added.

“You make us sound like a couple of teenagers,” she said, with a little laugh. She looked him over for a moment. “How old _are_ you?” she asked. Older than her, she knew; he had a few gray hairs in his almost-beard and at his temples when they first met all those years ago. But all she could really narrow it down to was “grizzled.”

He gave a small smile, but didn’t answer.

Come to think of it, she realized, he didn’t look any older than he did the day they met.

“You told me you used to be a surveyor,” Evie said.

“I was,” he said. “It’s an old profession, surveying.” A slightly larger smile quirked at the side of his mouth. “Very old.” He suddenly became alert. “Do you feel that?” he asked.

There was a bending in the air, like when wood is warped through weight and water. “Back up to Nassau Street, then?” she asked. As they walked north, she had a queer feeling. “It’s not coming from Trinity, is it? I mean, that would be almost _too_ obvious.”

Ellis was still alert, walking briskly as Evie hurried to keep up. “I’ve never credited the titans with much imagination,” he said. They crossed Nassau and headed for the college’s west entrance. 

Even on a chilly spring day, there was nothing like the first sight of Parliament Square, paved with cobblestones and surrounded by stern Georgian arches and columns. 

As they walked east, Evie followed the strange distorted feeling through the middle of Library Square. In the center of the square was a bell tower, a massive structure with paths running through each side. 

Ellis reached out to stop her. “Don’t go under there,” he said.

“Why?” asked Evie.

“It’s the Campanile. Put here over a century ago by some archbishop or other, the legend goes that any student who walks under it will fail their exams.”

“But we’re not students,” Evie said. “So what happens if we walk under it?”

“Long story,” Ellis said, seriously. She joined him in carefully walking around the bell tower and they continued on towards the rugby pitch. 

The sensation seemed to be coming from just north of the pitch. Ellis pinched the bridge of his nose just above his Bloomsday glasses (which they were still wearing) and gave an exasperated sigh. “It _would_ be Pearse Street, wouldn’t it.”

Evie looked at the seemingly ordinary row of connected houses that made up the college’s northern boundary. They did give off a feeling of unease, one that she couldn’t give a reason for. “How do we get in?” she asked.

“This way,” said Ellis reluctantly. As they moved towards a narrow door on the side of the house at the far end of the row, Evie could hear him grumbling to himself, “Figured there’d be trouble here sooner or later… cantankerous old bitch of a building...”

“You’re on familiar terms, then?” Evie asked. 

“We do have a history, yes,” he said stiffly. He knocked on the door, dislodging several layers of flaking paint. “Come on, then,” he told the door, sternly. “We haven’t got all day.” 

The door reluctantly swung open, revealing a dim and empty hallway. Looking at it, Evie felt a brief but powerful surge of nameless dread. “This must be the place,” she said. “What do we do when we find it?”

“Fortunately, it’s still daylight,” he said. “The incursions have only occurred at night, so we should be able to trap it while it’s dormant.”

They made their way down the hall. Bare bulbs sputtered overhead. It was tiled in linoleum that was full of scratches and bare spots, and without a reliable light source they had to watch their feet to keep from tripping on loose pieces. And the smell… it had the close stifled scent of a place that had not had a breath of fresh air in decades, with a faint odor of damp and mold at its edges. 

The door from the outside had closed behind them. Evie didn’t remember hearing it. Furthermore, the hallway was a dead end, without any doors.

Until Ellis tried a doorknob for a door that hadn’t been there before. “Locked,” he said quietly.

“Did you see that door when we came in?” Evie whispered. It was impossible not to whisper in here. A faint rumble of thunder could be heard from outside. Had it been very cloudy when they arrived? She couldn’t remember.

He looked past her at the wall behind her. “Did you see that door when we came in?”

Evie turned to look, and there was a door with a frosted glass window in it. Stenciled in gold paint was the word “ _Imní_ ”.

When she turned back to answer Ellis, she realized she was alone in the hallway.

The thunder rumbled again.

“Ellis?” she called tentatively. She tried the door he had attempted to open. It was locked. She knocked on the door. “Ellis!” She tried the other door, the one marked “ _Imní_ ” but it too was locked. However, when she turned away from that door, she found that the hallway had become longer, and a corridor branched off to the right.

“Ellis!” she called one more time. More thunder, but no other reply. She headed down the hall and turned the corner. Another long hallway, with more halls branching off of it. 

She heard an insistent knocking coming from down one of the hallways. Following the sound led her around several twists and turns to another door with frosted glass windows. This one was marked “ _Scéin_.”

“Evie!” It was Ellis, banging on the door from the other side. She tried the handle; locked as well.

“I’m here!” she called-- or tried to. Everything seemed to swallow up the sound of her voice.

“It’s a labyrinth! The fuckers turned it into a labyrinth!”

“Then that means--”

“We’ve got to get out! It’s--” But his next words were drowned out by the slamming of another door, and then silence. 

There was more thunder.

But if she were in a labyrinth… then that wasn’t thunder.

Followed by the sound of hooves, growing closer and closer. 

Panic overrode reason. Evie ran for her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes about some of the things in the chapter:  
> 1\. I've tried to make the geography of Trinity College as close to reality as possible. All the buildings mentioned are actual buildings on the campus. Apologies I got some historical bits wrong, I wouldn't be a student at Trinity for another 20 years.  
> 2\. The legend of the Campanile is an actual superstition at Trinity College. Don't walk under it if you value your grades.  
> 3\. The row of buildings along Pearse Street really are that unsettling, at least when I was there, but I cannot confirm the presence of a labyrinth inside (even though it makes a hell of a case for it).  
> 4\. "Imní" is Irish for "worry"; "Scéin" is Irish for "panic"


	5. Eris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't NOT do an homage to the final chapter of Ulysses.

Hallway twisting hallways always twisting always bending allways changing into something else but everything changes everyone changes except Ellis except for the grey in his hair that Evie touches just because she can just because she’s here just because she’s alive but she isn’t alive that’s right she died shot through the heart (and you’re to blame) does she give love a bad name does she love Ellis does he love her and her cold dead heart can she even feel love between its shallow beats even now beating faintly as she runs and runs and runs can you kill a dead thing if she is already dead but then why is she so prejudiced about it why does she even try to survive why did she try so hard to win the duel why did she kill Bran why did Bran want to duel so badly poor Bran and poor Ashe and poor her running and running without a weapon without summoning her sword Columbia’s sword summon it just summon it and stand and fight but what if she can’t what if it’s covered in poor Bran’s blood even though she pleaded with him to yield and then he threw himself at the sword and through his chest it went and she didn’t want to kill him didn’t even kill him technically but he’s dead all the same just like her and if she could stay and never go back if she could just stay here with Ellis and never have to kill anyone ever again would she do it would it be worth it she doesn’t know but she does know that she can’t stay here in this labyrinth she has to get out get out get out out out of this terrible story with monsters who beget children who beget children who beget children with women with women with women all those naked ladies on the playing cards oh happy home oh great despair oh Four of Wands oh strange and beautiful dream that can never never happen and why did the cards show her that and why did they show Ellis that and now she knows why they call it keeping your cards close to your chest close to her cold chest with its faintly beating heart that he didn’t have to see because it isn’t his heart not completely it’s her heart and she’ll show it to whoever she likes only she doesn’t want to show it to anyone these days because it’s stabbed through like the Ace of Swords like Bran’s heart like a bullet to her heart that she’s going to survive because she has to survive because she isn’t done yet because she still has so much left to do and because if the Minotaur is chasing her then it isn’t chasing Ellis and that’s when it clicks it all clicks and she remembers how to do it and she stops

and turns

and summons her shield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a tiny bit off on my historical accuracy: "You Give Love a Bad Name" was released in 1986, but not until the summer.


	6. Arete

“It wasn’t quite an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object,” Evie said as they stumbled, exhausted, towards the Pav. “But the collision did generate enough energy to throw us out of the labyrinth.”

The student sports bar was a cheery sight at the end of the vast lawn that bordered the southeastern section of the college. It was still a couple of hours until sunset and they needed to rest and plan what to do next.

One long hug, fortifying pint, and general freak-out later, Evie and Ellis were huddled together at a table in the corner of the Pav studying his map of Dublin and scribbling down notes on its quickly diminishing free space. They had decided that the rail lines were their best option.

“It’s almost directly between Tara Street and Pearse Street stations,” Ellis said, pushing his Bloomsday glasses up his nose. “Tara Street connects more routes but Pearse is busier… plus it has a few platforms that aren’t used much anymore.”

“Let’s do Pearse, then” Evie said. “I think giving the Minotaur a bunch of options isn’t the best move; all of those connecting routes at Tara probably plays to its strengths.”

“More risk of collateral damage at Pearse, though,” Ellis warned.

“Not if we stick to the unused platforms,” Evie countered. “Besides, having a lot of commuters there might be helpful: the combined force of their belief in the station’s layout will likely keep it metaphysically stable.”

“Hmm, that’s true,” said Ellis. “I just worry it won’t have enough power to deliver a good blow.”

“Even a reasonably solid hit should hinder it long enough for us to rein it in,” Evie said. “My question is: how do we get it there?”

“Well,” said Ellis, “we know it can warp space enough to not be completely bound by geography--”

“--which explains why the incursions haven’t been all within the same proximity to Trinity--”

“Nice rhyme.”

“Thank you.”

“--and we know it’s stuck in those Pearse Street buildings during the day. We’ll have to get there as soon as the sun goes down, before it can leave,” Ellis said.

“And then?” Seeing Ellis’ look of feigned innocence, she groaned. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” he said. “We’re going to be the bait.” He flashed her a wicked grin.

“Have you ever done something like this before?” Evie asked.

“Been chased by a Minotaur? As a matter of fact, I was doing something very like that only a few hours ago--” Evie rolled her eyes and gently elbowed him in the ribs. Smiling, he put his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll be fine,” he said. 

She leaned against him. “I know.”

“Not just the Minotaur. Us in general,” he said. “We’ll be fine, whatever happens.” He hugged her closer. “Are you cold?” he asked.

“Always,” she answered.

“Want another pint?” he asked, rising to his feet.

“Sure. I’ll be right back,” she said, heading for the lavatory.

She was washing her hands in the lavatory sink when a familiar face appeared beside her own in the mirror. 

“So when’s the wedding?” Lofn asked. She was perched on the reflection of the sink next to hers, with her chin resting on her hands. Her hair was teased out in an elaborate style that Evie was sure would be gracing the covers of bridal magazines in the next year. She was, of course, wearing white. 

“A bit ahead of the game, aren’t we?” Evie said, arching an eyebrow. 

“Oh please,” Lofn scoffed. “You’ve known each other for what, eighteen years now? If you’d gotten married back then your children could be getting married now.”

“Not to each other, I hope,” Evie said dryly.

Lofn sniffed. “Don’t be crude,” she said primly. “What’s the hold-up?”

“It doesn’t matter. I have to go back to Chicago eventually,” Evie said, drying her hands.

“So bring him along. You could even stay here, if you really want to. I could make it happen. It’s kind of my specialty, you know.” She straightened up and recited: “ _Hon er svá mild ok góð til áheita, at hon fær leyfi til manna samgangs, þótt áðr sé bannat eða þvertekit þykki._ ”

“I know that,” said Evie, a little annoyed. “But that doesn’t make it any less complicated a decision.” 

“Ugh, drama,” Lofn groaned. “Get it together, girl.”

“Is that all you wanted to talk about?” Evie asked. “I have a Minotaur to catch.”

“Just one more thing: I was told to let you know that the Conclave has settled down again and there doesn’t seem to be anyone screaming for your head anymore.”

“One less thing to worry about,” Evie said. 

“You could stand to worry a little less,” Lofn said. “Anyway, that’s all I was required to do, so now I’m heading to Grafton Street to look at dresses. Good luck with your Minotaur.” And with that, she faded from the mirror. Lofn was like the pushy aunt who asked at every family gathering when you were going to settle down and start a family. It gave Evie an uncharacteristically rebellious streak. She adjusted her Bloomsday hat and glasses with an exasperated sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lofn is a Norse goddess associated with Frigg, and is said to be the arranger of marriages. At one point in this chapter she quotes her own mention from the Poetic Edda (in Old Norse): "She is so gentle and so good to invoke that she has permission to arrange unions, even if earlier offers have been received and unions have been banned."


	7. Polyphemus

“The sigil seems to be holding so far,” said Evie, “but I wouldn’t take too long if I were you.” She had inscribed the runes invoking Syn on the door leading to the labyrinth, which she hoped would keep it open long enough for Ellis to get in and out again. He was busy taking apart his sweater; once he had unraveled a few meters, he handed the end of it to Evie. 

“Here you are, my Ariadne,” he said. 

“I suppose this is what we get for kenning using a book inspired by a Greek myth,” she said. 

“Fecking Minotaurs,” he agreed, unraveling a bit more of the sweater. “Though I’ve got to admire the damn thing’s ambition. Why wait for fourteen Athenian youths to come to you when you can go out and get your victims yourself?”

“Not that it turns up its nose at the ones who do wander in,” Evie said. She couldn’t help feeling a little nervous, though that may have been the warping effect of the labyrinth again. “Do hurry, though,” she said.

“I shall move at the speed of plot, and no slower,” he promised. They looked at each other in silence for a moment, and then he pulled her into an embrace. “It’s been good,” he said, holding her against his chest, “having a partner. I could get used to this.”

Evie pulled away. “Don’t say that,” she said. “That’s what people always say right before they get killed.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he reassured her, drawing her close again. “I just meant… it’s been good. Us. Together. Sharing all of this.”

She nodded. “It has.” She checked the sky. “The sun’s almost down. Time to go.”

Ellis tucked the remains of his sweater under one arm, and hefted a flashlight in the other. As he approached the door, he gave the doorframe a little kick. “Behave, m’lady, or I’ll be back to have it out with you after all this is over.”

“Who are you talking to?” Evie asked. She remembered his grumbling about the building earlier in the day.

“Long story,” Ellis said with a wink. He switched on the flashlight and stepped into the darkness. The light from the flashlight slowly faded to nothing as he walked further in.

Evie kept hold of the piece of yarn from his sweater and leaned against the door to hold it open. 

And for a long time, nothing happened. The air outside grew darker and colder. 

Then the silence was interrupted by a peal of thunder from inside the hall. She saw a light bobbing up and down at the end of the hall and could hear Ellis’ voice, but couldn’t make out what he was saying until he was nearly in the doorway:

“Runrunrunrunrunrunrunrun--”

Dropping the yarn, Evie ran toward their planned destination: the gate leading out to Pearse Street. She could hear Ellis close behind her, nearly at her heels, and behind them was a roar she had not heard the likes of since the attempted prison break. It was a huge sound, echoing off of the buildings and growing out of the echoes into its own independent sounds. The pavement at her feet began to crackle and splinter. 

They were nearly to Aras an Phiarsaigh when the gap between the buildings closed up in front of them, as though the stonework had grown together into a wall. “This way!” cried Ellis, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a sharp left turn towards New Square. 

“It didn’t seem that big when it was inside!” Evie yelled.

“Fecking Minotaurs!” Ellis yelled back by way of agreement. Masonry began to crumble around them as they ran through the square towards the Rubrics. A large slab fell, blocking the path between the north side of the residence hall and the chaplaincy. They made another hard left turn and headed to the south end of the Rubrics.

An oddly-dressed man in a powdered wig and academic robes leaned out one of the windows in the Rubrics. “What is all of this commotion?” he demanded.

“Evening, Mr. Ford!” called Ellis cheerfully, doffing his straw boater at him. “Don’t mind us, just escorting some rowdy scholars to the porter!”

“Who was that?” Evie asked as they rounded the corner into Library Square.

“Long story!” Ellis said. The thundering sound was everywhere, and as they looked across the square they saw that their avenues of escape were rapidly being closed off: a solid wall of stones blocking off the paths on either side of the Reading Room and either side of the Dining Hall. They didn’t need to turn around to see that the path they had just come from was now blocked as well.

Ahead of them, standing between them and the Front Gate, was a towering creature made of granite and ivy. 

“Okay,” said Ellis as they skidded to a halt. “That’s new.”

“No exits,” Evie said, trying to catch her breath. “What do we do?”

“Well, what do we have to work with?” Ellis asked. “I have… a flashlight. And no sweater.”

“I don’t think my weapons are going to do much good against an angry building,” Evie admitted, as the creature started towards them. It no longer hurried, sensing that its prey was trapped. 

“Worth a shot, I suppose,” Ellis said. “We can go out with a final act of defiant vandalism.” He took her hand in his.

“Hang on,” Evie said, getting an idea. She gave a nod towards the center of the square. “Have you got another sprint in you?”

“I think I can manage one more,” he said, limbering up. 

“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said. Ellis gave her hand a squeeze and then, brandishing his flashlight, ran directly at the Minotaur. 

“Oi!” he yelled, shining the light at where its eyes might have been, “slum monster!” The Minotaur regarded him with a slight increase in speed. “You’ve got a lot of nerve imposing on old Mrs. Pearse like that!” 

Now that he had its attention, Ellis began to lead it in a chase around the square. “She’s had enough grief and trouble in her days without a tarted-up shithouse like you messing everything up!” He ducked a swing from one of its massive arms, which demolished a section of the Dining Hall’s facade. “Oh, come on!” he shouted in aggravation, “They just fixed that thing!”

Ellis turned a corner and ran along the side of the Rubrics. “Say hello to Mr. Ford, then! Mind your manners, though, he’s a Fellow!”

The walls of the square began to close in. A newly sprouted piece of masonry clipped Ellis on the shoulder and nearly tripped him up as he rounded another corner. “I forgot what a pain in the arse it is to run on these cobblestones. Lucky it’s not raining. Hope you’re ready, my love!” 

Just before reaching the end of the Old Library, Ellis made a sharp right turn and made straight for the center of the square, the Minotaur nearly within reach. Right as he neared the base of the Campanile, he gave a leap to the side of it and sprawled on the grass.

Evie stepped out from the side of the bell tower and held up her shield. The Minotaur slammed into it with a bone-rattling force, but couldn’t knock her back. Not that it mattered; the Minotaur could simply go around it, which it did, angling the power of its advance so that it slid off the side of the shield.

And right under the Campanile. 

The bell tolled, and the granite and ivy holding the Minotaur together shattered into pieces.

A calf skull, no larger than a grapefruit and covered in bronze, rolled away from the bell tower and landed beside Ellis, who was still sprawled on the grass nearby. He picked the skull up and tossed it up and down like a baseball. “Tiny little thing,” he remarked.

Evie sat down beside him. Two figures, reclining near an archway. Just like the Ten of Pentacles, she realized.

“The power of a century of superstitious students,” she said, looking up at the Campanile.

“It never stood a chance,” Ellis said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. There are two ghosts in this chapter. I only made up one of them:  
> "Mr. Ford" is Edward Ford, a somewhat uptight academic Fellow at Trinity who was shot by some students back in the 1730s. Apparently his ghost still wanders around the Rubrics, a residence hall on the campus.  
> Mrs. Pearse is Margaret Pearse, a pretty formidable politician from the early days of the Irish Republic; she was elected to the Second Dáil in 1921 as a member of Sinn Féin. Two of her sons, Patrick and William Pearse, were both executed after the 1916 Easter Rising, and Pearse Street (the street where they were born) is named for them. Hopefully she doesn't mind too much that I've given her the run of the Pearse Street buildings as a kind of genius loci.  
> 2\. The poor Dining Hall. It had been recently renovated at the time this story takes place, having been damaged by a fire in 1984.


	8. Odysseus

“I must say,” Ellis said as they sat down on one of the stone barriers outside of the Berkeley Library, “that is one ugly piece of art.”

“It’s part of a series,” Evie said, taking a sip of tea from the thermos they had brought along. “There are ones like that all around the world.” _Sfera con sfera_ was a giant bronze sphere that looked as though it was splitting apart from a tremendous internal pressure, revealing its inner workings of gears and globes. It mostly just reminded Evie of the attempted prison break.

Ellis shook his head. “I do not understand modern art.”

“I’m starting to get the feeling that you count a lot more things as ‘modern’ than most people,” Evie said. “How do you do it?” she asked.

“Endure modern art? I trap titanspawn in them, mostly. It’s very cathartic.”

“No,” said Evie with a laugh. “Not that. You haven’t aged a day since we met. How?”

Ellis shrugged. “I decided not to, and so I didn’t. There’s too much to do.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Is there some sort of ‘older man’ thing you wanted to confess?”

Evie took another sip of tea. “Not that. Well, not anymore. But I don’t look so much younger than you now. And as you said, there’s too much to do.” She handed him the thermos.

“So stop,” he said. “Just decide not to do it anymore.”

“It’s as easy as that, then?”

He looked at her seriously. “We’re not normal, either of us. We fight Minotaurs and converse with gods and look into the future. We do impossible things all the time. What’s one more impossible thing in the grand scheme of it?”

“How long have you been doing this?” Evie asked.

“Long enough for it to be a long story,” he said. “I’ll tell it to you someday.”

“Someday,” she echoed quietly.

“The future is ugly as hell, but pretty good on the whole. I’d like to spend some time there with you.”

“Me too.”

“But you’re leaving soon, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. They both already knew the answer.

“Yes. But not just yet.” She took his hand in hers. “A few more days.”

“How about a week?” he suggested.

“Maybe two weeks,” she answered with a smile.

He got to his feet, still holding her hand. “Shall we, then?”

She stood and gave him a gentle kiss. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Sfera con Sfera_ is a bronze sculpture by Italian sculptor Arnaldo Pomodoro, and there are a bunch of them in cities around the world. I like it a little better than Ellis does, but it's still a weird-looking thing.


End file.
